Vince Staples. Sleep (Feat. Ab-Soul, Dash & Mac Miller)

[Verse 1: Da$h]Catch me on a trunk night, throwin’ up a dirt bikeEnglish dikes on the back and they screamin’, “Fuck life!”To be honest, only fuck twiceMy drug jacket got the thug stripesI’m glad they hate me, they ain’t love Christ or Mike Jordan eitherDip my blunts in ether, chase the last name of ArethaWhen they hear me through the speakers man these niggas know I mean itThe mannerisms of a genius, models down to seen itThe flow is scenicThe ho is black, the car is EuropeanCream soda when we put the lean inFuck your team, your clique, whatever you bangin’I come through blunt lit, bucket low, nuts hangin’Like nigga what? Nigga yawk! Niggas know meThe fuckin’ dollar, crossed to the dark side so it’s fuck Obi KenobiYou active, motherfucker then show meI tell your fuckin’ wife to blow meNigga, it’s still fuck you (Still fuck you)Courtesy of liriklagu.asia[Verse 2: Ab-Soul]Yo, still searchin’ for Easter pink on Easter SundayBlack lip pastor Herb done lit the herb and passed it your wayMaster with the nouns and verbs, you haven’t heard the wordplay?I’m the most def here, shouts to black DanteThe stakes is high, who’d like to climb on my gateLive from the last name of KanyeI heard your whoop de whoop and blase blasesSo when I cut you off consider Kendrick LamarYou know it’s all in the family treeThe helix of my DNA should read T-D-E, what can I say?I left a acid tab for Da$h on his dashboardI hope he don’t crash tryin’ to dash for itYour bitch fuckin’ like, like I paid cash for itMotherfucker, Soul!

[Verse 3: Mac Miller]It’s Young Fisherman sinkin’ in Lake MichiganInnocence, voice of an angel, so Minnie RipertonGettin’ lit exquisite bitch, live from the WimbledonStill sinnin’ as Bill Clinton, that’s ill pimpin’She butt-naked swimmin’, I’m payin’ her no attentionWorkaholic, got a TV show, I know you seen the cribNasty since a youngin’ in some sanitary birthWatch this beat get buried in a hearse, yeah I kill myselfMac hippy analog, rap midi turn the cameras offI made you snap, I’ll slap your bandana offYour bitch greet me like I’m Santa ClauseMouth wide, I’m high as a satellite seeI’m in ancient Greece gettin’ head from AphroditeMac is mighty, got a bunch of whities actin’ like meI set the bar highThis a bizarre ride, word to PharcydeIn plaid pants, hit a hole in one on the par 5Eyes closed drinkin’ whiskey, let the car driveThese hoes thirsty, see the dick and they large-eyed

[Verse 4: Vince Staples]Never gave a dollar to the pastorHoes can’t get inside my home without the passwordMy past worth was measured by those who got less then nowSafe to say you motherfuckers know you like my stylePaved the way for they new found visionNow they mad at a nigga, call me dad when you preachin’ boyNever one for trippin’, find me full-speed sprintin’While they yellin’ [?]Please tell me what it is and what it ain’tNiggas sniffelin’, catchin’ feelings while I’m laughin’ to the bankChasin’ bitches that they’ll probably never get, what a shameMeanwhile I’ll be sittin’ in this critical acclaimWalkin’ drowsy off a plane, drinkin’ water in the rainWith your daughter tryin’ to garnish her brain for future referenceI’m some shit you’ll never see in the gameAnd if I could I’d explain, but this right here’s the end